


Velvet Dances

by WiredRoses



Series: Neo Culture Avenue [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dance Instructor!Sicheng, Fluff, M/M, Retail Worker!Yuta, Very fluffy, again i have no idea how to tag, this is a reoccurring problem, you know what its just cute and short have fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiredRoses/pseuds/WiredRoses
Summary: “Would you say yes if I, perhaps,” Yuta grinned and whipped out a giant bouquet of pink, plastic flowers, “gave you these?”Sicheng was not amused. “No.”That was a word Yuta was beginning to grow used to when it came to Dong Sicheng, despite his best efforts. The other simply refuses to go out with him, no matter the lengths Yuta goes through to make his question memorable.
Relationships: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta
Series: Neo Culture Avenue [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564378
Comments: 8
Kudos: 112





	Velvet Dances

There were a few words Yuta had learned in his twenty-four years of life that he’d never used in a verbal conversation before. Words like  _ enervated _ were simply too ridiculous to use when  _ tired _ existed, others like  _ fudgel _ were lost over the years the language evolved, and some like  _ alacrity _ were ones he’d never quite understood or never bothered to try. 

Prior to meeting Sicheng,  _ arcane _ could’ve been clumped with the third category. But now, eight failed dating attempts later, it was the perfect word to suit the other man. 

Arcane: understood by few; mysterious or secret. 

With such a brilliant construction of letters, and with his recent acquisition of it into his vocabulary, Yuta felt he had no choice but to use it in conversation. 

“Sicheng you’re pretty arcane.”

They were sat across one another in the café they always went to. It was a quaint but aesthetic place nestled between the ceramic store Taeyong worked in and a candy store. But it was also right on the corner of the busy street, so getting a place was simply a miracle, especially on the kind of afternoon they found themselves now. Maybe knowing the owner wasn’t the worst thing. 

The sun was still shining brightly enough through the large windows that it somewhat bothered Sicheng and he shielded his face from it’s glare as he sighed. “I have no idea what that means.”

Yuta grinned, he shook his head just to bother Sicheng more. “It’s not important.”

He said it just to irk the other and had marvelous success. “Oh my god,” Sicheng groaned throwing down his pen. 

Yuta let out a cackle as he stirred his iced coffee.

“Is this what you dragged me out of work for?” Sicheng frowned. “I have a class in like an hour.”

“I’m sure that new guy––what’s his name? Ten? I’m sure he can handle setting up,” Yuta said waving him off. Sicheng worked at Regular Studios, the only building on the busy, popular shopping avenue that didn’t sell ‘things’ per say. And the man sitting across from him was a dance instructor. A very good one at that. He knew how important Sicheng’s job was to him but he enjoyed teasing the other far too much to let him go so quick. 

Though it was missing something, Sicheng gave him  _ the  _ look, the one usually reserved for Yuta’s attempts at asking him out. Speaking of which. “Maybe, I should still go.” Sicheng made to get up.

“First, though...” Yuta flashed his signature grin and, with great exaggeration, spun his coffee around, revealing the stuck on name and order. On the sticker, where his name should’ve been, it said  _ will u go out with me _ . 

_ Now _ , Yuta thought, the ticked off look Sicheng had perfected months ago really was complete. “No.” 

“Ah, foiled.” Yuta still kept the smile on his face as he meekly bent forward and sipped on the drink again. “Text me later, if you wanna do something.”

Sicheng gave him a tight lipped smile but nodded anyways as he got up. The moment he left Yuta let out a long sigh. Though he was used to the rejection over the past few months, he still found it tiresome right off the bat of a new one to have to think of another creative idea. If Yuta was going to ask Sicheng out, he was going to do it in style. 

The owner of the Cherry Bomb cafe, Johnny, was leaning against the distribution counter next to the coffee machines. “So, how’d it go this time?” Johnny nodded toward the doors Sicheng just left through. 

“Guess.” Yuta said, leaning on the counter, too. 

Johnny bit back a smile. “The usual, then?” 

“The usual.” Yuta nodded solemnly. 

“Try genuinity, heard it works wonders.”

Yuta rolled his eyes. He made a mental note to put a big green checkmark next to  _ coffee dates _ on his list of  _ things to do when we actually start dating _ . The world might be working against him, but he had harboured a crush for almost a year now and it was time to do something about it. He was sure that with just the right way of asking, he was going to nick it in the bud. Yuta smiled triumphantly at the thought. “Can I get a refill for the road.” He shook his empty cup.

“The ordering is done over there, pal.” 

☯︎

In the peak hours of the afternoon, their branch of Dream Launch home goods was full to the brim. Yuta’s fingers were systematically racing over the keys of the cash register, not letting the line get too long, giving a solid illusion of efficiency. A particularly huffy woman snatched her things off the counter and left when Yuta abruptly cut off her gushing over her child. 

“How many more minutes until this is over,” Yuta let out a sigh at the only other cashier working this shift he could bear. 

Mark checked his phone in between customers. “Peak ends, more or less, in an hour.”

Yuta didn’t let out a groan, he wasn’t sure if feigning tolerance for the situation was apart of his contract but there was simply no way he was going to risk it. Not when this position, aside from these few devastating hours, was simply perfect to accommodate his grad studies. “Great.”

The hour dragged on and by the end of it, Yuta was debating if grad school was even worth it at all. But now that the customers were all flocking back to their own jobs and the few that were left were being attended to by the others on shift, he let out an audible groan. 

“Why does peak have to be so… peak,” Yuta muttered. 

Mark made a face. “Same, honestly, same.” Suddenly, his whole demeanor shifted. “Wait, didn’t you go to ask out Sicheng again? How’d it go?”

Yuta raised a brow, Mark was so intuitively dense. No wonder Donghyuck was buying moisturizer for his ‘premature stress marks’. “He rejected me.”

“Oh man.” Mark seemed to wince, as though it wasn’t expected to happen again. “I’m sure––”

“Yeah, I got this,” Yuta said with conviction, clenching a fist in mildly-faux aspiration. “I just need to think of my next genius move.”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up. “Thought you’d already have that in mind, you’re always writing your list during breaks.” 

Yuta waved this off. “Me? I would never, I’m a dedicated, hard-working employee.” 

He was whacked on the back of his head with a roll of paper. Yuta fell forward and face-planted into the keys, the cash register rang shrill. Mark started laughing as their boss––who neither of them took really seriously––scoffed. “Two terms you lied about on your resume,” Doyoung deadpanned. 

“Okay,” Yuta spun around. “I didn’t fucking lie. I am both dedicated  _ and _ hard-working.”

“On the wrong shit, idiot. Don’t think I’m turning a blind eye to your  _ journaling _ while you’re supposed to be manning the till.” Doyoung glared at him. 

“Till?” Mark echoed at the same time Yuta said, “okay, bitch, I’m a dedicated man to  _ my _ man.”

Doyoung eyed him suspiciously. “Your man? No way, I bet he said no again.”

“Fine. Soon-to-be my man, then,” Yuta said. 

Mark was wearily glancing between the two.

Doyoung snapped his fingers. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Fight me, you will.” 

Doyoung spun around to a dumbstruck Mark. “Back to work, the line’s starting to form again.” 

The youngest member of their team frowned but did exactly as he was told. Yuta, on the other hand, spent this time combing through his list of ideas, updating it by crossing out the ones he’d already tried. He tapped his pen against bottom lip, considering the options he had left. Finally, he took the red pen he stole from Doyoung’s office last week and put a little red star next to one of the things on the list. 

Next up: Jaehyun.

☯︎

Chenle was playing videogames on his phone when Yuta walked into Fireflies & Flowers, a store that distributed only the latter. An absolute scam, if you asked him. 

Jaehyun’s store was airy, the walls and furniture were painted a perfect white, letting the natural light bounce off; it left the colour to the flowers. They had everything, from roses to poppies, orchids to bleeding hearts. It wasn’t exactly Jaehyun’s store, technically, he was only the manager, but Yuta had decided long ago that a scamming name was a scamming name and there was no way he was calling it Fireflies & Flowers. There was also no way he was calling it Hendery or Chenle’s store, both seemed inept in their duties. 

The newly-dyed green-haired boy looked up the second the melodic bell chimed at the door’s opening. “Oh, hey.” 

“Hey, Jaehyun here?” Yuta nodded toward the stairs that lead up, knowing Jaehyun was probably in his apartment if he wasn’t here. 

“Is that Yuta?” Hendery stuck his head around the corner from where he was likely arranging a bouquet. “Hey man.”

“Hey, where’s Jaehyun?”

Hendery looked at Chenle. “Hm, not sure, d’you know where he went, Lele?” 

“I think he said he was heading to Cherry Bomb… or, you know, he could be doing that thing he always does.” Chenle said, cryptically, Yuta thought, but apparently that mystery was his personal shroud because Hendery nodded with understanding. 

Yuta cocked his head. “Alright, you guys will have to do.”

“What can we do for you?” Hendery said, walking over to lean on the desk Chenle was sitting behind. 

“I need a bouquet of flowers.” Yuta declared. It was followed by a moment of complete silence. Even Chenle was just staring at him. 

“Alright, so,” Hendery finally began, lifting his hands to make his point clearer, “that’s a really useless sentence to us. Man, all we got are flowers, can we get a little specific here, please?”

Right, Yuta hadn’t exactly thought this far. “Yes, okay. Let’s do pink.” Another silence. 

“Again, not very helpfu––”

“Why don’t you just stand there, close your eyes, and spin around until we say stop,” Chenle cut Hendery off but the latter was now nodding at the idea.

Yuta gave a thumbs up. He shut his eyes tight and stuck an arm out, ready to act as a human twister picker. 

“Nope, bring your hand back in, if you knock anything––which you will––that’s out of our paychecks,” Hendery said and if Yuta had his eyes open he knew Chenle would be nodding. “Alright, go!”

Yuta began spinning, trying to stay in one place but that was proving to be difficult because he had no real way of knowing if that was happening or not––

“Stop!” 

Yuta opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that he was staring at a huge rack of flowers. The second thing he noticed was that there was only one kind of pink flower. Slowly, he lifted his hand. “That.”

He turned back and noticed Chenle was already typing into the register. Hendery was staring at him with a retail smile on his face––the one he wore with his own customers. 

“Would you like to get the big bouquet at 30% off.”

☯︎

Now, Yuta was standing just outside the doors to the dance studio. Listening to the last beats of the song fade away as the class ended. Young people began flooding out when that new instructor, Ten said “See you all next week!”. This must be the class for undergrad university students, then. 

Each individual gave him an odd look as they left. Yuta thought this was probably due to the fact that he was drowning behind the biggest bouquet of flowers he, let alone any of them, had ever seen. The 30% off had been worth it. 

“Is that for Sicheng?” a younger one asked, raising his brows pretty high. It took a moment for Yuta to realized this was, in fact, Jisung, the sole undergrad that worked at Cherry Bomb. They all knew Johnny hated hiring incompetent students, Jisung had somehow made an impression despite no one ever seeing him do any actual work there. 

Yuta grinned. “How did you know?” 

Jisung snorted. “Not like he mentions you every class or anything.”

“What?”

Jisung shook his head, slung his bag over his back, and walked off. 

He had to wait another two minutes before the doors opened again. Ten, whose real name no one could remember or pronounce, was rolling the knots out of his neck. “Oh what the––” he said the second he noticed the pink flowers. 

“Hey.” Yuta gave him a confident grin. 

“Dude,” Ten deadpanned, “what the actual fuck.” 

“Not for you.”

“No trust me, we all know who it’s for,” he murmured then nodded his head in the direction of the studio. “He’s still cleaning up, either go in or continue standing out here like an idiot.” 

Yuta waited for him to leave before knocking the doors open with his hip. The dance room never smelled of sweat or hard work which was mesmerizing, but now, seeing the way Sicheng was meticulously cleaning the walls and floors, Yuta understood why. 

Since the other hadn’t noticed him yet, he took the opportunity to position himself as though he was about to propose––down on one knee and holding the bouquet out. Once he had, he cleared his throat. 

Sicheng spun around, the mirror wipes and spray still in hand. He took one look at let out a, “really?”

Yuta smiled widely. “Sicheng, would you do me the honour of becoming my boyfri––”

“No.” 

Yuta dramatically collapsed to the floor. “How could you do this to me?” he whined. “I even bought the big bouquet for you.”

Sicheng rolled his eyes but made his way over to where Yuta was lying, nevertheless. He stuck out a hand and let Yuta take it to pull himself up. “If you wait a few minutes, I’ll finish cleaning the mirror then we can go get something to eat.”

“Sure,” Yuta said once he was standing again. “Let me update my list, first.”

“Mhmm,” Sicheng said non-committedly, already back to scrubbing the place down. 

☯︎

The lights were substantially more blinding than they usually were, Yuta thought. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that he’d already had one too many drinks in his system and was beginning to just see every colour in white. 

“I just feel so unappreciated, you know?” Yuta said, half draped on the bar countertop. 

Kun, the manager of the Empathy club, was pouring a few kinds of liquor together, the result was unequivocally, unnaturally coloured. Yuta reached out for it and Kun slapped his hand away. “Can you ‘feel unappreciated’ at home, please?” he said handing the drink to the person who ordered it. “Why are you here if you’re just gonna be sad… again.”

“That’s what this place is for!” Yuta argued and Kun hit his head. 

“I can’t deal with this right now, what the fuck,” the manager grumbled. Kun took two steps, grabbed the other bartender, Jungwoo, and placed him in front of Yuta. “Do something.”

Jungwoo looked absolutely bewildered. “What’s wrong?”

“Sicheng keeps saying no,” Yuta whined squirming in his position. 

“Jesus fucking christ, can you stop showing up here with the same complaint,” Donghyuck called, glaring at him from the other end of the bar. He aggressively began shaking the mixer. “You’re fucking with the vibe.” 

“It’s okay, Yuta,” Jungwoo said, patting his head. “I’m sure it won’t be like this forever.”

“This is why I only love you, Jungwoo, and  _ not _ ,” Yuta spun and glared right back at Donghyuck, “the  _ other _ employees.”

“Okay, loser.”

The music was suddenly much louder and Yuta pursed his lips. Empathy was a great place to come and drink one’s worries away and yet, it always seemed to amplify his. ‘No’ wasn’t a word he wanted to hear the rest of his life, especially not from a person like Sicheng. No, not a person  _ like _ Sicheng, just Sicheng. 

“Alright, what the hell am I looking at right now,” a very familiar voice said as they flicked the back of Yuta’s head. 

Yuta turned around, now fixing his glare on Xiaojun who had a frazzled looking Ten in tow. “It’s sad hours.”

“It’s actually happy hour,” Jungwoo put in, sweetly. 

Xiaojun took the empty seat beside him and leaned his head on his hand. “Why are you being so dramatic?”

Ten stood next to them, with his arms crossed over his––was his shirt unbuttoned? Yes it was. And for some reason, it seemed to be covered in glitter. “I thought I heard you were used to Sicheng saying no.”

“You got here like last week, you don’t know anything,” Yuta muttered, mostly to himself. 

“What the fuck? Bitch I came three months ago.” 

“Why is my question being ignored?” Xiaojun interjected, pushing Ten behind him as if he was physically blocking him. 

Yuta groaned. “I’m not dramatic.”

“You are dramatic.”

“No, Donghyuck’s dramatic, Ten’s dramatic, I’m not dramatic.” He reached for a drink behind the counter and Jungwoo gently pushed his fingers away. 

“True,” Donghyuck called the same time Ten said, “kinda valid.” 

“Well  _ I _ , for one, think you’re being really annoying right now, why are you––god that’s a lot of empty glasses.” Xiaojun’s brows raised at the mess beside him. 

Jungwoo wordlessly got started on clearing them away. “Fine, I’m being annoying. I’m annoying. I’m annoyed,” Yuta felt his words slur. 

“Donghyuck! Cover me for a second!” Kun suddenly called from his end. Donghyuck moved over with practiced grace. 

“How are you not annoyed at Mark?” Yuta lifted his head when Donghyuck passed him. 

“I’m always annoyed at Mark,” his voice wavered a little on the last word. “For good reason, too. Why are  _ you _ annoyed.”

“Because I’m constantly being rejected.”

“Yeah but, why do you care?” Donghyuck pressed and Yuta shot upright. 

The music felt like it turned up again and the speed at which he sat up made his head pound in time with the horrendous beat. “What does that even mean?”

“Huh?” Donghyuck squinted at him. “Obviously I’m asking why you care.”

“Because I like him, why the fuck else?”

Donghyuck’s brows arched in confusion. It took Yuta’s muddled brain a moment to figure out that everyone had stopped talking around him. He did a slow spin and established that every single one of his friends was just staring at him, Xiaojun’s jaw was even dropped. 

“You do?” Jungwoo was the first to speak, bewilderment was laced between the two syllables. 

“What? Of course, I do––wait, what the fuck, why are you guys shocked?” Yuta looked between the men with suspicious speed. “ _ Why are you guys shocked _ ?” 

“Holy hell, we all thought you’ve been kidding!” Xiaojun suddenly yelled and Yuta felt his own jaw hit the ground. 

“Excuse me what the fuck?!” 

“Every. Single. One. Of. Us. Thought you were just constantly pranking him! It was so mean, especially because he likes you so much––”

“WHAT’S GOING ON?!” Yuta boomed and they all stared at him with their eyes bulging. 

Again, it was Jungwoo who broke the silence. “Yuta, he thought you’ve been messing with him all this time.” 

And it felt like the whole club’s roof collapsed in that moment. Like he was suddenly being covered in the rubble that shattered the place. He thought what? Sicheng thought? No. Really? “Holy shit!” Yuta screamed, jumped off his chair, and ran toward the exit. 

☯︎

His brain may have been swimming in alcohol but there was something deadset about his actions. He knew exactly what he was doing and where he was going, because he knew Sicheng. 

The lights came from the windows in the double-doors. He could see it from the ever-busy street, whose shoppers were now mainly flocking toward the restaurants and clubs dotting the avenue. Regular Studios was closed to the public, but Sicheng was a planner. He took his job so seriously.

Yuta peered into the well-lit hallway before opening the doors that he knew Sicheng hadn’t locked yet. He paused just outside the entrance to the instructor offices. There was one cubicle that still had its light on.

Sicheng was chewing the end of his pen, staring with furrowed brows at a notebook planner in front of him. His brown-dyed hair was falling into his eyes. He looked adorable. 

And of course, in pure Yuta fashion, he choked on air and immediately started an onslaught of coughing. 

Sicheng practically jumped out of his chair, his eyes were huge in shock. “Yuta, oh my god,” he held a hand over his heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m so sorry, holy shit, Sicheng, you have no idea,” the words poured out of his mouth like a cork that popped off a wine barrel. 

Sicheng’s expression immediately changed to confusion. “What?”

“I was being genuine, like, genuinely genuine,” Yuta blurted. Ah, this was what they would’ve called ‘word vomit’. “I had no idea you didn’t think I was being genuine. I was totally real, with all of it, I meant all of it like… honestly I just was really, extremely, completely genuine.”

“I have no idea what’s going on.” Sicheng started getting out his phone, most likely to try to contact any of his roommates, most likely Ten, most likely–– “you okay, Yuta?”

He didn’t let that second go to waste. “I like you.”

If the office had been mostly compiled of whites and browns before, it was now filled to the brim in blacks and yellows. Everything had been swept off its feet and the giant switch in the backs of their minds that said ‘do not pull unless you want to see everything tumble into chaos’ was now turned to the highest notch. Sicheng’s face mirrored it all. Yuta wasn’t sure his was much different. “What?”

Yuta grinned. “I really, really, really do like you Sicheng. It’s not a joke––it never was.” 

That’s when the stage cracks in half. “Oh my god, really?”

“Yes, really!”

“No! I thought you were kidding!”

“I hate that.”

“It’s your fault.”

“What?!”

“Definitely is––”

And then they’re kissing. 

It’s sweeter, Yuta thought, than he ever would’ve thought. They stayed like that, in the dingy office, holding each other and kissing until their breaths couldn’t keep them upright anymore. 

Yuta broke away first. 

“Do I get to hear something else this time?” 

Sicheng smiled, widely; god, how was Yuta supposed to live? “You have to ask.”

Yuta moved his hands until he was cupping the other man’s face. Holding him dearly. “Will you go out wit––”

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so obviously, this is apart of a collection; a little ~mini series~ if you will. I’m not really sure how to describe it? Hence why I titled it after the street they all work on, as the creative mastermind I am :’)
> 
> I decided to make this a collection because the events of each fic happen in chronological order, which is very different from the simultaneous stories in Wait I Didn’t Ask For This. I think the series idea makes more sense. Plus! This’ll let you guys focus on a story or ship you want to read. 
> 
> If you’re simply interested in one ship or story then here’s a list of the order I’m releasing them, so you can just follow my twitter or check back here:  
> Yuwin  
> Johnten  
> Jaeyong  
> Nomin  
> Markhyuck
> 
> [follow me on twitter!!](http://twitter.com/wired_roses)


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